Soooooo...
I'm back! First off, I have to say that real life gets really friggin' weird sometimes. Like... really weird. So I'm sorry that I disappeared on you. I haven't had enough time to devote to the boys here. But I've got some chapters coming to you in what I'm going to loosely call "rapid succession". Hopefully you like what happens next. (fingers crossed)
I really appreciate the encouraging reviews! Thanks you guys! (Also, it's nice to know that when I disappear mid-thought on a story, someone out there is like, "Wait, wtf? What happens next?" It is pleasing to know there is someone other than me reading this.)
There's gonna be a lot of montage-ing happening in the next couple of chapters, so heed the ellipses.
Chapter Twenty Nine
Sam feels bad for being snappy with Dean, but he isn't ready to talk about it. Not yet. Not until he can figure what's what. And for him, Dean being with Cas, as more than just friends or comrades or war buddies... just doesn't work in his brain. He knows that in reality, it's not that outlandish that they've got something more than they did before Purgatory. They've always been weirdly connected. But there's just too much going on in Sam's head for him to deal with the idea of it - he's got Dean to worry about. He's got himself and monsters and Crowley, and Kevin Tran, and Cas (and his loyalties), and tablets and the world to worry about. And he doesn't want to think about the fact that he might be letting some superhuman betrayer take advantage of his brother's weakness... sexually.
But the doubt is still there. The fear, that maybe Cas is still bad. Maybe Cas is just using Dean, and then he's gonna leave again...
Sam's pretty forgiving. He was just about there with Cas, just about ready to let it all go. Or so he thought. And then he'd walked in yesterday, and heard...
He heard a voice, not his brother's, distinctly sexual in it's moaning and grunting, he heard the slapping of skin against skin, and heavy breath, and he almost kicked the door down because the idea of Cas - the new God who lost his marbles after nearly decimating Heaven and humanity and then dragged Dean through Purgatory until he was ripped-up and broken - using his broken brother to get-off, was sickening. Infuriating. Dean was broken, and Cas wanted to fuck him? All that he'd taken, and he was still taking more? From the one person who didn't have anything left to give?
That's when Sam realized, he wasn't over it. He wasn't ok with Cas yet. And as he turns on the stove and flips open his computer and pretends not to be thinking about storming in there and stabbing Castiel in the chest, he becomes more and more indignant. How could Dean not tell him? How could Cas dare touch him?
But then, he sees Dean come out smiling like he hasn't in years. He looks light and content. And again Sam has to reconsider what he thinks about them. Because for a split second... Dean looks happy. He looks pleased and cheeky and put together and so remarkably like himself.
Until of course he sees Sam and reality comes crashing down on both of them.
Sam realizes, that he has to take some time, use his brain as Jess always encouraged him to do when he wanted to bulldoze through a problem with a strong arm and a hard head (the John Winchester method). So Sam makes the conscious effort, if only to see Dean smile again, to try and understand them.
And Sam sees a lot of things differently after that. He has to. Cas isn't going anywhere, and him and Dean are turning out to be much more serious than he anticipated. They are rarely apart, and Sam can hear them sometimes, rustling in the sheets, talking quietly to each other. He tries to avoid getting in their way. He gives them their space when he can, he tries to keep his distance from their safe place, Dean's bedroom, and doesn't mention the obvious sight of hickeys or kiss-swollen lips and mussed-up hair.
He doesn't joke it off. He should, but he doesn't. He's just not there yet.
Their cohesion makes him feel strange - he is jealous but glad, irritated but appreciative, disgusted but curious, all at once.
Despite himself, his heart warms to Castiel more everyday, though his frustration and mistrust do not entirely cease. That too, is confusing. And he opens his mind to the idea of them, as a them, a little more all the time. But still, it is jarring to witness.
Sam sees all kinds of things now that he's opened his eyes to their relationship. He sees moments he would have missed before, or tried not to think about - touches and glances and unspoken knowledge. And every time, despite its awkwardness, it helps him wrap his mind around what they have.
...
Sam sees Castiel calm Dean down after he burns himself on the stove, having had one of his episodes while trying to cook himself some food. Sam can see the frustration boiling over in his brother, who before Purgatory was pathologically self-reliant, and now is livid to find that he cannot even trust himself to complete simple tasks with any measure of the success he would have achieved without sparing a thought or an ounce of effort before this all happened. He clutches his burnt forearm, jaw clenched hard, the need to destroy clearly written on his face. But Castiel crowds him, whispers things that Sam can't hear, is undeterred by Dean's harsh attempt to shove the him away.
Castiel merely crowds closer, pressing his face to Dean's neck and his hand over Dean's as it clutches the burn.
Sam sees Dean slowly relax; he sees his jaw and forehead go smooth, his shoulders lose their tension and his hands un-fist, until the two are simply standing against one another.
When Cas steps away, Dean's injury is gone and he begrudgingly turns back to the stove to try again.
...
He sees Dean holding Cas from behind as the angel sits crumpled and frustrated in a rickety kitchen chair, clutching his head from the ache of separation from Heaven; Dean kisses the top of his head, nuzzling into his hair, whispering things Sam could not imagine.
...
Sam watches them sit, so close together, on the couch like any couple would. Dean's hand is resting on the inside of Cas' knee as he drinks his coffee; Castiel is completely unbothered by the touch, reading an ancient book in a language Bobby was never able to translate.
...
He sees Cas watching Dean.
He's fought off one of his episodes, without help. Just stubbornly refused to go blank. Sam and Cas were at opposite ends of the room, both watching but not intervening, wanting to see if Dean would pull himself out of it on his own. When he does, Sam's eyes don't stay with him, but instead go to Cas, who is watching Dean intently. There is affection on his face, clear to Sam even through the angelic mask of quizzical aloofness.
...
Sam freezes when he sees it -
Dean and Cas are there in the kitchen, trading deadly, expert maneuvers, Dean with knife in hand. Sam doesn't have time to come forward, to try to interject, before Castiel is pinning Dean bent backward over the stove, the knife in Dean's own hand held at his throat as a result of the angel's clever move.
Sam's eyes widen in terror, but then... Dean smiles.
And Cas smiles.
And Dean says, "I'm gonna get you one of these days," and chuckles when Castiel leans down to bite his neck.
There is the rustle of clothing and quiet talk as the two men straighten out, returning to washing and drying plates as they had been doing previously, and Sam sidesteps quickly behind the wall.
He'd known this. He had. There were no doubts in his mind as to the nature of his brother's relationship with Castiel at this point. But actually seeing it...
That was an entirely different feeling than just knowing it.
He hears Dean's heavy footfalls as he walks out of the room. Sam takes a deep breath, shaking his head and trying to collect himself to make it seem like he was just coming into the room.
But as soon as he turns the corner, he gasps - because Castiel is standing right in front of him.
"Jesus, Cas..." Sam exhales heavily.
"I apologize-" he states flatly.
"That's ok-"
"-if you were made... uncomfortable."
Sam swallows hard and feels his cheeks get hot. Of course Castiel had known he was there. He's a friggin' angel. "Oh... uh..." he glances up, but his eyes dart away again immediately, because Cas is doing that thing where he stares right into the core of you... as though it's easy as pie, and completely normal. "I wasn't trying to spy."
"I know," Cas says certainly. "You thought I might hurt him."
"No, no," Sam tries to cover quickly. But then he doesn't bother. He knows who he is talking to. "It just looked..."
Castiel nods, looking away. "I wouldn't," he states suddenly, and Sam nods as if to say of course. "Not ever again. Not either of you," Cas promises, eyes holding fast to Sam's.
Sam can't think of anything to say but... oddly he finds himself believing him, or at least wanting to. He's been burned by Cas before, but this time, he really believes him. He just knows somehow, that the angel will stay right.
"Cas..." he starts, and then falters, not sure if he wants to do this or not... "You love him, right? I mean, that's what this is? Because... he's been through a lot. And I think he really... I don't know, he's really... attached to you. And he's my brother and I gotta look out for him -"
"Yes," Cas interrupts, "I do... love him." He says the word out loud as though he's never said it before, and it tastes new and difficult in his mouth. And Sam realizes, Cas never has said it before. Suddenly he blurts, "You know if you screw him over I'll kill you."
Castiel looks at him sheepishly, "That would be extremely difficult for you."
Sam's eyebrows raise.
"But..." Castiel starts awkwardly, knowing he's missed some sort of social cue, "ok... I... I will keep that in mind."
The way he says it, as if he's not sure if it's the correct response but he's taking a shot in the dark, makes Sam laugh. He shakes his head and pats Cas on the shoulder. He feels a lot lighter all the sudden.
...
Sam catches Cas and Dean, late one night, sleeping fully-clothed in the bathtub.
Of course, Castiel doesn't really sleep. So when Sam's thoughts dial down enough for him to really look at them again, naturally Castiel's blue eyes are open and focused on him.
Suddenly, as he often does nowadays, Sam feels as though he is intruding. "Oh - sorry - I just -"
"It's ok," Castiel says quietly. "He is very soundly asleep. He was very tired."
Sam can't really think of a response, so he just nods. For a moment they are quiet, and Sam can feel Cas' eyes on him as he takes in the sight of his brother, sleeping like a baby curled up to the angel's side.
"I suppose I am not as accustomed to human slumber rituals as the both of you, but I imagine that sleeping beside the toilet as opposed to in one's bed is somewhat unusual?" Castiel supposes drily.
Sam can't help but huff a little laugh. "Yeah, you could say that."
"He's become a strange man, by normal standards," Castiel says with genuine concern, looking down at Dean's face.
Sam asks quietly, "Was it a rough night?"
Castiel watches Dean's face, never looks away, "He became... confused."
Sam nods.
"He didn't know where you were."
Sam's eyebrows raise.
"I tried to assure him that you were on your way back, but... he insisted that we go out and hunt for you." Castiel hesitates before adding, "Search the forrest."
Sam's eyebrows draw together as he realizes Dean had panicked, because he thought his little brother was out there all alone in Purgatory.
Cas offers, "I tried to explain to him where we were, that you are safe, but..."
"Yeah I know," Sam consoles the angel gently. He knows how awful it feels to not be able to help Dean in those moments. Yeah you know it's out of your control, but still, you feel like an awful failure not being able to pull him out of it.
Sam appreciates Cas telling him this. He's felt oddly lonely since the two of them have become one giant maladjusted person stuck in their own little world of love and confusion and their own secret history. He's felt... forgotten. So as sad as he is to hear that Dean was upset, he is glad to know that his brother missed him.
In that moment, Sam finally looks at all of these moments he's witnessed between his brother and the angel from a new perspective. If they stick together, and if they get this right, Dean might be... happy. Maybe for the first time, Dean will feel loved and accepted and whole. And that's nothing to feel bitter about, or be jealous of. It's something to encourage, to cherish.
Dean's always been alone. With Dad, when Sam himself was in college making friends and loving Jessica with his whole heart. Or he's been alone, with a string of acquaintances to warm his bed but not his heart. Or he's been with Sam, enjoying brotherly love, but never having someone to give himself to. And that's sad. Because Dean deserves to be loved. Sam wagers he'd be good at it.
And here's this guy - this semi-immortal, totally knocked-around guy, who could literally be anywhere doing anything and he's here in the middle of the night, laying in a cold, hard bathtub just to make sure Dean feels safe. Just to make sure he gets some sleep.
Cas may have fucked up royally, but he has something to offer Dean that no one else could, not even Sam, despite his willingness to give anything for his brother. He could never make him feel whole the way Cas will. There's some things that Dean needs that family can't give him.
Sam doesn't feel so much like the odd man out anymore. His brother will always love him. And Sam will never lose him to anybody. They'll never stop being brothers just because Dean's heart is finally big enough, open enough, for more than just Sam.
Sam is glad Cas is here. He's glad Dean's got someone to hold him through the night.
And the way Cas looks at Sam now, nervous and vulnerable and hoping, lets him know that the angel can feel the shift between them, and knows that Sam doesn't hate him anymore.
...
Dean has more good days than bad now. But he still isnt' right. And it breaks Sam's heart. He can't stand to see his brother struggling like this. On his bad days Dean looks tired and sickly, ever so slightly hunched over, as if breaking in on himself; his eyes are dark and shadowed beneath, leaving him looking gaunt and unfocused.
On this night, Cas sends him to bed early, and Dean doesn't even have it in him to protest the childish treatment. He simply takes the angel's hand and follows him, shaky and bent in on himself like he's hiding from a cold wind.
Sam can hear them, from his seat at the kitchen table - Castiel puts him to bed, tucking him in, and Dean asks, voice so childlike, if Cas is gonna leave him alone, if he's gonna be there in the morning.
Cas runs a hand over his hair and promises that he won't leave. And Dean simply says Ok, like a little kid who doesn't know how not to believe him.
The moment strikes Sam hard.
Dean is so ... vulnerable. He is needy and off-center like a traumatized child. Cas is rough and wartorn, strong enough to care for him when Dean can only hold himself tight and squeeze his eyes shut and pray that Sam and Cas don't disappear on him.
Sam doesn't realize how deep in his thoughts he is until he hears Castiel sitting down across from him. The look the angel gives him lets him know, he can tell Sam is struggling.
"I've never seen him like this..." Sam admits quietly. "I mean, I've seen him down. I've seen him so low I didn't know if there was coming back... but... he was still... Dean. He was still defiant and mouthy, even when he was ready to go down with the ship. This... he's..." Sam's voice catches in his throat. His eyes scan the table, trying to find the words. "He's vulnerable." Then he adds, practically in a whisper, as though it is the most scandalous thing he could say, "He's not... with-it." His eyes meet Castiel's, their hazel color darkened and glassy, and he admits, finally, "It's scaring the crap out of me."
"Because he's weak," Castiel states flatly. There is ever so slightly and edge to the word, as though he resents the implication.
For a moment Sam's hackles raise, but it extinguishes almost immediately. He swallows thickly and admits in a soft voice, "Yes."
Castiel's eyes soften.
Dean had always gone without being cared for, as a child, and then as a man. And while it was something his soul may have wanted deeply, it was never strictly needed for his survival that he be taken care of. Not like it was now.
And Castiel was seeing Sam realize that now. All that Dean had gone without, compounding down on the man until he couldn't cross the street without someone there to hold his hand and tell him it was going to be ok.
In that moment Castiel realized, miraculously, how terrifying it all must be for Sam.
Sam who'd always been the baby, the one Dean tried to take care of, the one Dean wouldn't allow to take care of him. The one Dean put on the brave face for. To see that all disappear, was taking its toll on the younger Winchester. And Castiel finally understood, in that flash of a second, the way the brothers worked, better than he ever had before. And in that moment, he pitied Sam Winchester.
Seeing one's hero broken was a terrible thing. Castiel knew that Dean had suffered that, watching his father disappear into the thing that became John Winchester - Hunter first, father second. It was the first of many heavy loads Dean had to carry in life.
Castiel looks at Sam, sees him choking it all down, trying to be tough, emotionless - trying to be Dean. He lays his hands over Sam's, half startling the man with the outright act of comfort, human affection.
"It's not forever," Castiel offers.
"You don't know that," Sam responds weakly. "He could be really broken this time. Like, forever..."
Castiel withdraws his hand, looking down at the table and shaking his head. "I found Dean in Hell. Then, he was broken."
Sam eyes go wide as they snap up to Castiel's; he is shocked and fascinated by this turn in the conversation, into the forbidden territory that is Dean's time in Hell, the start of their profound bond. It wasn't something either of them talked about; Dean's tour in Hell was a conversation off limits. And Castiel's words echo in Sam's head, along with those of his brother's curbside confession from long ago.
Then, he was broken.
"Now..." Castiel starts, but he sighs, running out of words. "Now he is just... lost. Bleeding." Castiel looks up at Sam, "It'll stop."
"When?" Sam asks in an awed whisper, as though Castiel is God himself.
Castiel shrugs, but he is certain, "When he lets it."
